


You’ve Got Your Demons (and, Darling, They All Look like Me)

by linksofmemories



Series: Red String [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark, Emotional Manipulation, Extremely Dubious Consent, Hand Jobs, Knotting, M/M, Oral Sex, Post Episode: s03e18 Riddled, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rimming, kind of Selfcest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-20
Updated: 2014-02-20
Packaged: 2018-01-13 03:50:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1211506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linksofmemories/pseuds/linksofmemories
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“We care about you very much, Stiles.”</p><p>
  <em>Yeah, I don’t fucking buy that.</em>
</p><p>That was what he wanted to say anyway. He didn’t even know how this was possible, how he could be so completely trapped inside of his own mind and body. But here he was, sitting in the middle of the preserve and staring at himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You’ve Got Your Demons (and, Darling, They All Look like Me)

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: I've given the Nogitsune a name in this and I explain in the end notes what it means, but please pronounce it Yah-ko (like the "ya" in "yacht"), instead of Yack-ko (like the "a" sound in "apple"). I'm not a native Japanese speaker, but I have been studying the language for six years and having Teen Wolf butcher every word on the show is painful for me.
> 
> Also this fic is super weird and dark and different from what I normally write, so this note and the tags are your warnings.

“We care about you very much, Stiles.”

 _Yeah, I don’t fucking buy that_.

That was what he wanted to say anyway. He didn’t even know how this was possible, how he could be so completely trapped inside of his own mind and body. But here he was, sitting in the middle of the preserve and staring at himself.

Except it wasn’t really him and he was probably asleep or locked inside of some kind of dimension or he didn’t even fucking know.

The Nogitsune (“That’s so formal, Stiles, call us Yako.”) was just staring back at him, a mischievous grin on its – on _Stiles’_ – face. He knew that this wasn’t physically happening; that it was all in his head, but that didn’t make it feel less real.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” it said, frowning. “This is very real to us, Stiles. We just want you to be happy.”

“Then get out of me.”

“But we don’t want to,” the Nogitsune said. “We like being inside of you Stiles. You’re so different from how we thought a human would be. We thought you’d be brave and selfless like your friend Scott or hiding venom behind your pretty skin like Lydia. You’re not though.

“You’re so… _funny_ , Stiles,” it continued, its face breaking out into a smile as it chuckled. “And pathetic and sad and lonely and vulnerable.”

The fact that it was all being said by someone who looked and sounded like himself was the worst. Because even if it was the Nogitsune talking, those were still words he thought about himself. It was like it had reached into his mind and pulled out every negative thought he’d ever had.

“Why are you doing all of this?” Stiles asked, changing the subject away from himself.

“We're bored,” it shrugged. “You try living a few centuries with no entertainment and see how bad you are when you get freed. We saw a way out though, we saw the opportunity and we took it. We needed a human host though.”

Its eyes went to Stiles’, his own brown reflected back at him, but darker than his own. He felt so open whenever it looked at him. Part of the feeling was probably still being stuck in the hospital gown while it stood there wearing his clothes. They were different clothes too, not the ones he’d been wearing to the MRI scan. The Nogitsune had probably gone back to his house and gotten more of his clothes, pretended to be Stiles for appearances.

“Why pick me as a host?” Stiles asked.

“We thought we made that obvious, we like you.”

“Be more obvious,” Stiles said, feeling his teeth start to grit.

“All right then,” it shrugged. “You’re beautiful, Stiles. We looked at you and thought that we hadn’t ever seen anyone as beautiful as you. We wanted to be inside of you so badly we almost thought about possessing someone else to be with you. But the thought of being _truly_ inside of you was too much for us to pass up. We wanted to know how soft and pretty you were, wanted to know everything and everyone you thought about.”

It probably meant that Stiles was a little bit sick that he could only think that no one had ever called him beautiful before. But here the Nogitsune – Yako – was, telling him he was so freely. And it felt, in such a weird way, _good_ to be wanted. He had never really felt it before, knowing that none of the three girls he’d ever kissed wanted him because he was _him_.

“Really?” he asked, hating himself for the higher pitch of his voice.

“Of course,” it nodded, stepping toward him. “Please don’t be so upset with us, Stiles. Do you want to know the first time we saw you?”

“Uh, sure.”

“It was a day after Derek Hale had left Beacon Hills,” it explained. “You looked so sad, getting into your Jeep and driving to school. We were so angry that someone had made someone so lovely so sad. Despite what you may think, we can appreciate the beauty in life, in you.”

He didn’t know if he should buy it. On one hand he was beyond freaked out and angry and scared, but on the other hand he was strangely flattered. It didn’t feel like the Nogitsune was lying to him, honestly it spoke with more sincerity than he had ever heard from it or from anyone.

“If you like me so much, then why don’t you leave me alone?” Stiles asked.

“Because we're selfish,” it shrugged. “And because since we've possessed you for so long your body probably won’t respond to us leaving so positively. We care about you too much to risk seeing you get hurt.”

“Even though you’re the one hurting me?”

It frowned, stepping toward him until it was just a foot away. The Nogitsune reached out to Stiles, placing its hands on his shoulders. “We never wanted to hurt you, Stiles. It’s killing us that we're the one causing you so much pain. We can make it better though.”

“By leaving and making sure that I’m not fucked up once you’re gone?”

“No,” it chuckled, placing a hand – one of _his_ hands – on his cheek. “We were thinking in more of a traditional way of making you feel better.”

Its other hand came up to his face and it took him a lot longer than it should have to put the pieces together. He got that the thing liked him, but he never thought it would actually act on anything.

But here he was in some kind of weird mind prison, being touched by an ancient Japanese fox demon that looked like his evil doppelganger. Seriously, fuck his life.

“We can fuck you if you’d like,” it said, conversationally.

“Did I say that out loud?”

“No, but we can hear every single thought that you have,” it shrugged, fingers smoothing against his skin. “And just because we’re in your mind doesn’t mean that this isn’t happening. It’s not physically happening, but you’ll still feel everything, don’t worry.”

“Yeah, I’m definitely not worried about that,” Stiles snorted, taking a step back and tripping over a root that had magically appeared on the ground. He hated being clumsy, hated that Derek had called him newborn Bambi one time and it had made his face flush and heart race.

“Stop thinking about him,” the Nogitsune hissed, eyes turning into slits and hands curling up into fists. “He left you, you don’t need him. You’re ours now, that’s all you need to think about.”

“I don’t belong to anyone,” Stiles said, his voice shaky as he continued to step back. “Except my dad for legal reasons.”

The Nogitsune didn’t say anything else, practically stalking forward until Stiles’ back was up against a tree. And then he realized that he wasn’t in the preserve. He thought that since it was his mind he would be in a familiar place, but he wasn’t.

Confusion filled him and he looked at the Nogitsune, seeing the twisted smirk on its face. Stiles looked around, taking in the clearing for the first time. There were tall trees neatly lined up in a perfect circle, the clearing nothing but vibrant green grass. The sky was completely black, no stars, but the clearing was lit up perfectly, like someone had placed street lamps within it.

“I don’t –” Stiles started, his eyes going into some kind of frenzy as he looked at his surroundings. “This isn’t real.”

“Of course it is,” the Nogitsune said. “We're in control of your mind, so we’re in a place familiar to us. Look.”

It pointed toward a cluster of trees to Stiles’ right and he turned his head quickly, loving any excuse to not look at the Nogitsune for any longer. Coming out from the trees were four fox kits, all running into the clearing. They rolled around in the grass and bit playfully at the other’s ears, yipping happily.

Behind all of them was another kit, stalking through the grass before approaching Stiles and the Nogitsune. Its fur was white except for splotches of red along its tail and snout. It curled up around the Nogitsune’s legs before rubbing up against Stiles’.

“This is Chishio,” the Nogitsune said. “Stiles, call us Yako, please, you’re getting repetitive.”

“I didn’t even–”

“Your thoughts, we can hear them,” Yako said, running his fingers through Chishio’s fur.

He just nodded, his throat feeling like it was closing up as he looked from Yako to Chishio who was looking up at him with dark red eyes. His back was still against the tree, but he knew that he’d still be helpless even if he had room to run. He was trapped in his own mind with no idea how to take control again.

Stiles couldn’t even think of strategies because he knew that Yako would know everything. The only thing to do was to just wait until Scott or someone figured out how to save him.

“Save you from what?” Yako asked, placing a hand out in front of Chishio. The fox paused before standing between Stiles’ legs, its tail wrapping around his knees and making them want to buckle. “From us? Why would you need saving from us?”

“Because I’ve seen a lot of sci-fi movies, okay?” Stiles said, slouching against the tree. Chishio’s tail was so tight he couldn’t feel his legs, his entire body starting to shake. “I know that the parasite always wants to take over the host.”

Yako frowned, stepping even closer to him and placing his hands on either side of Stiles’ neck. “We don’t want to erase you or kill you, Stiles. We're not going to do that, we're just going to stay here with you until we all die. We're going to make you ours so that even if Scott or Lydia or your father find a way to separate us, you won’t want us to go. You’ll be crying for us every night if we leave you.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

It pressed its body up against his, Chishio still tightening its tail around him. “Well then we’ll just have to show you.”

He never expected the first time he got kissed by a guy to be from a demon or someone who looked identical to himself, but of course life could never really be planned. Stiles pressed his lips together tightly, refusing to do anything as Yako moved its lips – _Stiles’_ lips – against his. It curled a hand around the back of his neck, opening its mouth more to try and coax Stiles’ open. A tongue ran against the seam of his mouth and Stiles turned his head to the side, his stomach coiling in disgust.

“Don’t be like this,” the Nogitsune sighed. “You let us in before, let us in again.”

“I never let you in,” Stiles said, his sounding almost strangled as white hot washes of shame spread throughout him.

“Yes you did,” Yako said, cupping Stiles’ face in his hands and turning his head. “You were in such a bad place after Derek left, right before you could tell him how you felt. The Nemeton didn’t do you any favors either. Scott was distracted with becoming an alpha and your father was distracted with work. You were so alone and we asked you if you wanted us to make the pain go away and you said yes.”

That had never happened. That had never happened. That had never happened. That had never happened.

 _Oh_.

His mouth fell open in surprise and disbelief at his own stupidity and Yako pressed their foreheads together, hands slipping up the hospital gown and onto his stomach. He shuddered against him, squeezing his eyes shut because maybe he was still dreaming.

Because it had been a week after Derek had left when it had happened. His dad had been working a night shift and he had been home alone, sleeping until a nightmare of his mother had played through his head. She had been painting like always, her long hair in a messy ponytail and her hands covered in blue and bits of green. The paint started to turn red until it was trickling down her arms, pooling in her lap, and staining her clothes and skin.

She had turned around, bright smile on her face as she asked him what he wanted for lunch, the red seeping out from the pores of her skin. He had felt so small, like he was eight years-old and watching her die all over again. Stiles had been frozen and then a small white and red fox had slipped out of the canvas, wrapping itself around his legs and looking up at him with big, blinking red eyes.

“ _Do you want the pain to go away_?”

“ _Yes_ ,” he had choked out, sobbing and wrapping his arms around the neck of the fox.

“There you go,” Yako whispered, its mouth just a breath from his. “You see, Stiles? We're here to help you. All we want is to make your pain go away. Just let us.”

It kissed him again before he could get a word or even a sound out. He was breathing heavily through his nose, his mind a million places at once, and his skin shaking against the Nogitsune’s hands. It was like he was on the verge of a panic attack, but he just couldn’t tip over. The attack was right there in front of him but it was being held back by some kind of force, something that was letting him breathe for once.

“Let us in,” it breathed against his mouth and when it pressed its tongue to his lips again, he let it in.

It was all more than a little weird, having lips and a tongue identical to his own against his. But he was shaking and feeling so weak that it felt good. He let out a moan into the Nogitsune’s mouth, fisting a hand into its shirt and opening his mouth more.

“That’s it,” it said, parting from Stiles’ lips before diving in again. Its tongue licked the roof of his mouth, upper row of teeth digging into his top lip, before pulling away again. “You’ve never had a tongue in your mouth, have you?”

Stiles shook his head, their lips still pressed together. Chishio uncurled itself from around his legs and he felt the feeling go back into them, almost collapsing at the sensation. Yako wrapped an arm around his waist though, pressing him flush against its body. Stiles could feel its erection pressed against his crotch and he seriously didn’t know what to think of that.

“It could be inside of you,” Yako suggested, clearly reading his thoughts again. “We want it to be inside of you. We want to give you what those three silly little girls you kissed before could never give you.”

He thought of Derek. For some strange reason he thought of Derek and all the times he had imagined having sex with the older man. Because maybe girls couldn’t give him what Yako was offering, but that didn’t mean –

“No,” it said harshly, pressing its fingers into his skin. “Don’t think about him.”

“I-I won’t,” he said automatically, shaking his head.

It observed him for a few moments, watching with cold and calculated eyes before nodding in approval. “Good.”

Lips collided again, but this time there was a loud rip and Stiles’ upper body was exposed. His mouth trembled against the Nogitsune’s, a noise of protest making its way up his throat, when the sweatpants around his waist were shoved down as well. They disappeared completely, leaving him naked and vulnerable in front of someone completely clothed.

“That won’t do,” Yako said as it moved its mouth away from Stiles’. It was looking down at Stiles’ cock, still soft in the patch of dark curls. A tutting noise escaped from its mouth as it shook its head, reaching down and wrapping a hand around Stiles.

His chest was heaving now and he felt like he was about to unravel. This wasn’t how his first time was supposed to be. It was supposed to be real, for one thing, but also not with a demon. But he couldn’t help but let out a soft moan, his mouth unable to close as it stroked him perfectly, making his legs shake.

“We’ve always loved your cock,” it admitted, turning its hand around the head. “So pretty, such a pretty little cock.”

Stiles’ face burned, embarrassment crawling across his skin. Because after spending all of high school in the boys’ locker room he knew he wasn’t exactly well-endowed, but –

“Hey,” it said, pressing their noses together. “We love it like this.”

It showed him how much it loved it by continuing to stroke him, faster and with his hand coated in something slick. The Nogitsune’s mouth was pressed against his ear as it stroked him, Stiles panting and thrusting his hips up into its fist.

He came with a strangled groan, tears pricking at his eyes and shame filling him up. Yako attacked his neck with its mouth, sucking right below his ear until Stiles’ vision started to blur and his knees buckled.

“Stiles,” it said into his ear. “We _are_ male, you don’t have to think that we're just a thing.”

And with that Stiles’ eyes were closing and he felt himself fall.

**OoOoOoO**

Stiles woke up in his own bed with come sticking to his boxers. He didn’t know how much time had passed since he had last had control at the hospital, but it was dark outside and his clock said 1:44 AM. He carefully slipped out of bed, grabbing a clean pair of boxers from his dresser before waddling across the hall to the bathroom.

As soon as he flipped the light on it burned, his eyes squeezing shut as he fought to adjust. The light that had been in that clearing was ridiculously dim compared to the bright fluorescents of the bathroom. He managed to crack his eyes open eventually, looking at himself in the reflection of the mirror.

He was pale and shaken and had obviously come in his pants, but otherwise okay. Except for the dark red mark under his ear. Stiles brought a shaking hand up to touch it but lips pressed against it before he could. Two arms wrapped around his waist and he stumbled backwards against a chest, his heart feeling like it had leaped into his throat.

Yako was behind him, smiling coyly and God, they made the weirdest image in the mirror. A hand slipped up under his t-shirt and fingernails scratched at his stomach, teeth nipping at the spot under his ear.

“I need to wake up.”

“You are awake.”

“No I’m not.”

“Yes you are,” he said, taking Stiles’ wrists and bringing his hands up to his face. “Count, if you want to make sure.”

So Stiles did, his voice trembling as he counted his fingers from one to ten. When he finished he looked at Yako who was grinning like always.

“Are you not possessing me anymore?” Stiles asked, having no other explanation as to how he was physically there.

“Oh we are,” Yako nodded. “Only you can see and hear us though. When we let you be in control we’ll be right here beside you. But let’s say that tomorrow you want chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast, but we want to have blueberry pancakes, so we’ll just –” he stepped forward, merging into Stiles and making him fall. He fell until he was back in the clearing, Yako standing in front of him. And then he was falling again, reappearing back into the bathroom with the Nogitsune still pressed up against his back. “Simple, right?”

No. No it was not simple and it was not okay and –

“Don’t,” Yako said, hands tugging down on Stiles’ soiled boxers. “Don’t be so mad at us, just accept us.”

He grabbed a washcloth from under the sink, wetting it with warm water before bringing it to Stiles’ cock. He twitched away, but Yako curled a hand around his hip, holding him still.

“Tomorrow at school you’ll be in control,” he explained as he cleaned Stiles. “You’ll be in control for a week Stiles, for so long that they’re not going to even think that you could be possessed anymore. We’ll take care of the little fireflies when you’re sleeping and then nothing will be in our way. Things will go back to normal.”

“Except you’ll be here.”

Yako smiled at that, the washcloth reaching behind Stiles’ balls and to his perineum. “Won’t that make it better?”

The washcloth pressed against his hole then and Stiles’ eyes fluttered closed because this was so different from the clearing. Because now it actually was physical, now Yako kind of was real, and he didn’t know what to do about it.

“Don’t worry,” Yako murmured against his skin, the washcloth abandoned so that he could press his fingers against him. “We’ll be in there soon. First you need to sleep, we can’t bear seeing you so tired.”

The Nogitsune dressed him in his clean boxers and threaded their fingers together before leading him back across the hall and into his room.

**OoOoOoO**

They didn’t suspect anything. Sure Scott and Derek and his dad were still suspicious, but they didn’t suspect him anymore. Yako was smart, making sure he only got rid of one Oni at a time and even going so far as to start mischievous and deadly acts outside of Beacon Hills. To everyone else he had grown bored with Beacon Hills and was now moving.

Of course that wasn’t true. When Yako traveled Stiles would wake up in the clearing, Chishio and the other fox kits keeping him company as his body was controlled. Part of him knew that something was wrong with him, that it was more than the possession. He had read about certain syndromes and knew that he was falling victim, but this ridiculous want to not be alone was overtaking him.

He felt pathetic and loved all at the same time, waking up from the clearing to have Yako there talking or kissing or sliding their identical bodies against each other.

Tonight he woke up just after five, the lights of the police cruiser leaving the house illuminating his room. He blinked slowly, looking around until he saw Yako sitting on the foot of his bed, looking at his hands. They were stained red and Stiles slowly sat up, unsure of what to say.

“We killed the last one,” Yako said, a smile wide across his face. “All those little fireflies are gone.”

Stiles didn’t know what to say and didn’t even know what to feel. Part of him was terrified that the Oni were dead since they probably could have helped him become unpossessed, but another part was happy that he didn’t have to leave.

And then he just felt sick all over.

“Be happy, Stiles,” Yako said, deciding for him. “Be happy and let us have you.”

Their mouths were crushed together and Stiles was being pressed back against the bed, his sheets being tossed to the floor. Clothes were being pulled off so quickly that Stiles was more than a little startled when both of them were suddenly naked and Yako was scraping his teeth against one of his nipples.

Stiles’ hips bucked up at the contact, feeling like the wind had been knocked out of him. Yako paid him no mind though, continuing down until his mouth was around Stiles’ soft cock. It always took him a while to get it up, his body always wanting it and his mind always screaming against it. He didn’t oppose this time like he had a few times before, just letting the demon wrap his mouth – _Stiles’_ mouth – around him and get him wet until he was hard and aching.

“Perfect,” the Nogitsune mumbled, pressing a sloppy kiss to Stiles’ hip. “Perfect perfect perfect.”

He continued kissing his skin, trailing from one hip and across his stomach to the other one. He kissed down his thighs until his mouth found the insides of them, sharp teeth worrying away at the skin and making Stiles shake. It got to the point where Stiles was so wound up that he wanted to thread his fingers into Yako’s hair and make him _do_ something. The light kisses and teasing were starting to get old.

Waiting much longer wasn’t an issue though because Yako was spreading his thighs, tilting them up, and then pressing his mouth against his hole. Stiles let out an honest to God whine, hand coming up behind him and gripping at the pillow. This didn’t deter Yako at all who only got more enthusiastic, tongue and teeth and lips sloppily eating him out until his cock was leaking and he heard himself begging.

“S’okay,” Yako slurred, moving up to where Stiles kept the lube and opening up the bottle. “Just a minute more.”

He kissed Stiles’ forehead in a way that was so sweet and tender that it left him even more confused than he’d ever been. Letting the confusion consume him wouldn’t do though because two fingers, so familiar from the times he’d fingered himself, pressed inside of him. They curled instantly on his prostate, tapping and milking away until Stiles was practically shoving his ass back for more.

“We love how much you want this,” the Nogitsune said, pressing their mouths together despite Stiles’ mind telling him no. “How could you ever expect a girl to give you this? And you love it too much for you to even try to live without it.”

Stiles could have argued, could have fought back, but two more fingers were being pushed inside and he felt stretched and drunk in the strangest of ways. It was like he was riding on endorphins, the quick pace of everything going to his head. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, but he was gulping up air, filling his lungs with the oxygen he craved.

Yako’s thumb pressed against his rim and the demon raised his eyebrows, looking at Stiles tauntingly. “Do you think we could?”

 _Probably_.

“We'll save that for next time though,” he said before pulling his fingers out, leaving Stiles feeling empty, his hole clenching around nothing.

And then it was clenching around Yako’s cock, thrusting in hard and smooth. After a few thrusts and Stiles moaning and gasping like he was in the world’s worst porno, Yako slipped out, grabbing his hips and turning him onto his stomach.

He let himself be moved around until he was on his hands and knees, Yako wasting no time thrusting back into him. The angle felt so fucking good but the pace was too fast, making Stiles lurch forward and fist his hands into the sheets, hoping that he wouldn’t fall.

“So tight,” the Nogitsune groaned, teeth latching onto Stiles’ earlobe. “So hot and tight and wet for us.”

A hot flush crept under Stiles’ skin and a particularly well aimed thrust had him crying out, biting onto his bottom lip until blood swelled to the surface. He didn’t know what to do, what to say, what to feel. His mind was racing with the pleasure and the _wrongness_ and the sick twist of his stomach telling him that this wasn’t supposed to be like this.

But Yako’s thrusts were becoming sharper and quicker and Stiles found himself moaning so loudly, saying things and begging and being so embarrassing he couldn’t even believe it was himself. Stupid things like, “I want your cock” and “More, please, I need more” and “Fuck, I wanna feel you in my throat.” He felt drugged and heavy and sick, but so fucking good at the same time.

And he was crying for some reason, tears spilling down from his eyes and onto his hands that were fisted in the sheets. There had to be something wrong with him, there had to be something else going on, but he felt so good and wanted and loved and –

“What –” Stiles gasped, feeling Yako press his cock all the way inside and hold it there. It felt like it was growing somehow and it stretched so badly it felt like he was on fire. “What is that?”

“Our knot,” the Nogitsune said, stroking his hands up and down Stiles’ back. “They’re not just for wolves. And you’re going to take it so well, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Stiles choked out even though he didn’t know _why_.

“God, we wish you could carry our kits,” he sighed, rubbing his face against Stiles’ skin. “Imagine how beautiful you’d be, tummy all round with our young.”

He was gonna be sick. He needed to leave, he needed to get away, he needed to tell Scott that he had _lied_ , that the Nogitsune was still inside of him.

“In more ways than one,” Yako said, his voice a dark chuckle as he thrust his hips forward, brushing against Stiles’ prostate and making it flare up in sensation. “You’re not going to tell anyone, are you, love?”

“No.”

“You’re going to be a good boy for us, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Then come for us already.”

So he did, choking on tears, his cock shooting white spurts as he keened and shook. He felt like he was going to hyperventilate when they were on their sides and when Yako wrapped an arm around his stomach and said a hushed “We love you so much.” The shame that filled him was worse than the need to vomit.

**OoOoOoO**

He didn’t have to tell anyone because Derek figured it out. Stiles was alone in the loft with Derek and with Yako who was pressed up against his back, mouthing at Stiles neck and with a hand up his shirt to tease at his nipples. It loved doing this in front of Derek, making Stiles tremble and shake and smell like even more arousal in front of the older man.

Stiles was in the loft to give Derek some research but the man had offered for him to stay longer. He had accepted, not having any other plans, and now here he was, standing in Derek’s loft and waiting for him since he needed to take a leak or something.

“What do you want to do tonight?” Yako asked.

He couldn’t answer because Derek would hear and wonder why he was talking to himself. Stiles shrugged in response and that just encouraged Yako to sidle closer, hand creeping at the waistband of his jeans.

“You want to watch a movie?”

He almost didn’t answer again but then he realized that it was Derek talking, not Yako.

“Okay,” he shrugged, following Derek to the couch.

Derek’s laptop was on the coffee table in front of them and Stiles was about to sit down and open it when an arm was wrapped around his waist and his mouth was about an inch from Derek’s. He knew he was probably gaping like a fish, his mind racing a thousand miles a minute, when Derek’s eyes turned ice blue and he yanked on Stiles’ wrist.

“I’m sorry about this Stiles,” he said before snarling right at Yako.

Pain flared up inside of him and he was happy he was next to the couch, collapsing onto the plush cushions as his vision blurred. He blinked up in confusion, watching Derek press his claws into a smirking Yako’s neck.

“How did you –” Stiles started.

“Red string,” Derek said, holding up a string that connected Stiles’ wrist to Yako’s. “I can read auras, but you already knew that.”

“We were wondering why you hadn’t already made a move, honestly,” Yako taunted. “Stupid little wolf wanting to double check before getting into a fight, how middle school of you.”

“Oh I knew you were there,” Derek said. “You never left, I waited for Stiles.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Around you he seemed happy and confused and aroused, I thought that he wanted you with him,” Derek said. “But now he smells like fear and hurt and all kinds of fucked up.”

“Derek, don’t hurt him,” Stiles said even though he didn’t know why.

“I can’t promise that,” Derek said.

There was silence in the loft, just Yako and Derek glaring at each other and Stiles blinked before he was back in the clearing. Chishio was sitting in his lap and the four kits surrounded him, all looking up at him with wide, scared eyes. And he wanted to comfort them, to tell them that it was okay, but he couldn’t find the words. Even if he could find the words there wouldn’t be any truth in them.

He screamed then, being brought back into Derek’s loft and this time on the floor, clutching his wrist like it was on fire. Stiles screamed and screamed until he saw Derek digging his claws into the Nogitsune, the monster with the sharp teeth and the bandages around its head.

His chest was heaving and he was shaking and crying before throwing up on the tile floor, feeling like someone had just ripped him in two.

“Shh, I’ve got you,” someone – Derek – shushed, wrapping arms around him and pulling him to his chest. “It’s over now, I’ve got you.”

But it wasn’t over because all he could think about was what Yako had said. That a host’s body would always be in bad shape after the parasite left.

**Author's Note:**

> "Yako" is another term for "Nogitsune" or "field fox". "Chishio" means "blood that's not in the vein." "Chi" is blood that's in the veins, but "chishio" is specifically blood from anything like a paper cut or a stab wound.
> 
> If anyone needs me to tag something that I missed, please tell me. I do not want to upset anyone with improper tagging. And yes this is part of a series, it'll only be three parts long though, so I'm keeping it short.
> 
> Title taken from Taylor Swift's song "Sad Beautiful Tragic" because when do I not title a fic after a T-Swift song? Also when people who mostly write fluff (aka people like me) write dark fic, we _really_ write dark fic.
> 
> [My tumblr](http://erinpond.tumblr.com), for any questions you may have. Oh and my beautiful beta is out of commission because her laptop charger broke, so I beta'd this and all mistakes are 100% mine.
> 
> Thanks for reading! :))


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